The end product might not be as satisfying as the B positive, and he might not technically need solid food anymore, but Jaden knew he would never stop enjoying all the flavors he’d grown up with. His mother had often made something similar when he was a child. He hoped it set Lyra, and himself, at ease.
“Hey. I’m going to run out and grab some burgers. Do you need—oh. Oh. You cook?”
Lyra.
He felt her presence in the room as though someone had flipped a light switch on inside him. Jaden paused in stirring the soup, an odd tingling sensation suffusing him from head to toe. It wasn’t the return to even footing he’d hoped for, but he seemed to need this feeling like he needed the air he breathed.
She stood just inside the archway leading into the kitchen, looking around at the scattered remnants of his soup-making extravaganza. He drank in the sight of her as though it had been years, not hours, since he last saw her. She looked as beautiful as she always did, but with a return of the caution he’d seen in her when they first met.
Patience, he reminded himself. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that she relax around him, but it was.
“You don’t have to stand there,” he said. “Come in and sit. The soup will be ready in a minute. I’d rather it had simmered all day, but this is as good as it gets for spur of the moment.”
She seemed to startle a little, like she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. Then her eyes met his, and he felt that bright burst of connection. A silent song that insisted this she-wolf, and no other woman, was for him. He didn’t see how it could be, but there it was.
“I didn’t know vampires cooked,” she said. She seemed a little dazed as she watched him.
“I’m a man of many talents,” he replied.
“No, but I mean, you actually cooked,” Lyra said, moving into the room. She bypassed the table, however, and came to stand beside him, peering into the pot. Then she looked up at him, her expression one of wonderment. He suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. Maybe it had been the wrong thing… it had been a long time since he’d had to think about such things.
“It’s just soup,” he said.
Instead of answering him, she leaned over and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes with an expression of bliss that tugged at him.
“Nobody cooks for me,” she said. “This house is like the land of processed food products. Dad and I have been eating out of boxes and cans for years, except for maybe burgers. And eggs.” She paused, then smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “This is the sweetest thing. Just—thank you.”
Her grin was so genuine, and so infectious, he found himself returning it. Before he could think better of it, he reached up and moved a stray curl out of her face, running his thumb over her cheek. She was very still, closing her eyes for just a moment in what he hoped was pleasure. At least she didn’t move away.
Whatever gulf had opened between them, he badly wanted to bridge the gap.
“You’re very welcome,” he said softly.
He had to force himself to stop there, to stop from gathering her in his arms. Knowing she would back away from his advances was hell, even when he could feel that she was as drawn to him as he was to her. Understanding the rejection didn’t make it feel any better. And as he’d expected, she opened her eyes, blinked as though trying to wake herself up, and moved back out of reach. Deliberately, he turned and ladled some of the soup into a bowl for her, found her a spoon. She accepted both, took them over to the table, and began to eat while Jaden went back to the stove to clean up. He worked quickly, efficiently, and gave her the time to decide where and whether to begin.
Finally, she spoke.
“This is fantastic soup,” Lyra said. “It’s perfect. I had no idea vampires bothered to cook.”
“This one does, at least. I enjoy it,” Jaden said. “I always have. I don’t get a lot of dinner guests, I guess, but it helps me clear my mind. I’m glad you like it. My mum used to do something like it. Speaking of, where’s the amazing Dorien Black? I haven’t seen him since I got up.”
She stopped and looked at him intently for a moment, her spoon perched in midair halfway to her mouth. He wondered what had caused her sudden pause.
“It’s poker night. I will guarantee he’ll inhale the leftovers, though,” she said, not sounding particularly unhappy that he wasn’t there. Good. Neither was he.
“You’ve never mentioned your parents before. I almost forgot you had them,” Lyra said, and then he understood what had caught her interest.
Jaden lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I didn’t hatch out of an egg. Of course I had parents.”“What were they like?”
Jaden hesitated. It wasn’t something he talked about. His past was his own… and really, most of his acquaintances didn’t give a damn anyway. Having something important to him disregarded and mocked, as had often happened in his days as a fledgling, tended to make a man keep things close to the vest. But if it kept her here, looking at him like this, then he would try. For her.
“All right, if you’re that interested. I grew up on a farm,” he said. “In Somerset. We were respectable, though not enormously wealthy. The land was ours, and Father made sure his sons learned to work it, along with the rest of our education. Father was an eminently sensible man. Used to drive me mad.”
“Harrison,” Lyra said, a smile touching her lips. “That’s your last name. I wondered.”
Jaden executed a small bow. “And my first. You’re speaking to James Dennis Harrison III, English farmer turned creature of the night. Biter of necks, herder of cattle, cooker of soups.”
“Not to mention trainer of werewolves,” Lyra added.
“Mmm. Not only am I talented, my titles are many and varied,” Jaden said, turning to wipe down the counter. He’d been wrong. Lyra made it easy to talk about… natural. And he couldn’t help but be flattered that she was interested. A vampire wouldn’t have been. For most of his own kind, family and mortal life was very, very old news, and unworthy of conversation.
“What made you change your name?” she asked.
“You leave one life behind and take on another. It seemed appropriate to leave the name as well. Especially since, for a long time, my father wasn’t very pleased to be sharing it with me.” He tossed the towel on the counter, then went about throwing the vegetable scraps into the garbage as he worked… and remembered.
Love could surmount many things, but becoming a creature of the night was a hard one.
“I’m sorry. He was upset, then, when you turned,” Lyra said. She sounded hesitant, but he didn’t want her to be. That old wound had long since healed.
“It’s all right,” he said, turning to look at her. “He came around, eventually. It was hard for him on quite a few levels. I was the oldest son, after all. I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. Sort of threw a wrench in things, my becoming an immortal bloodsucker.”
Her ensuing smile, always a little bit wicked, was something he didn’t want to lose for the time he had left with her.
“What about your mom?” Lyra asked, her interest apparently piqued. “Was she okay with it?”
“No,” he admitted, “not really. But she never stopped pestering me to come home.” He smiled at the memory. “Always talked about fixing up a room in the cellar and keeping a few extra cows on hand so I could be, as she put it, a respectable vampire. She didn’t like the idea of me biting people. It offended her sensibilities. I think she decided she’d raised me better than that.”
“You loved them,” Lyra said, stirring her soup while she listened to him. He was surprised that she sounded surprised.
“Of course I did. Very much. Not all of us had bad beginnings, you know. I just picked the wrong night to visit the tavern. A pretty barmaid wants to get friendly in the stables, you think you’ve hit the jackpot, and then, poof, life as you know it is over and you’ve got to find a new way. Before that, it was all very… normal. I would have had a good life. Inherited the farm, married some lovely country lass, had nine or ten children. Not so bad.”
And that, Jaden realized as the words left his mouth, was the wound that remained, even after two hundred years. He had wanted all that. He still wanted all that. And there wasn’t a damned thing on earth that could give it to him. For all the darkness and danger in his past, not to mention his present, he had very simple desires. Sadly, his life hadn’t been simple in a very long time.
“It sounds nice, actually. I think normal’s probably good, if you can get it.” She laughed softly. “Not that I would know much about it. I was born a werewolf. Not exactly a normal beginning. It was happy for a while, though,” she said. “Then my mom died. Not quite as happy, but we managed.”
Jaden nodded. “Hunters, you said.”
“She went out for a run one night and never came home. They found her body the next day. That’s why it’s so dangerous going out by yourself. But she did her own thing. The people who knew her still laugh about how stubborn she was.”
He smirked. “Imagine that.”
“Yeah, shocking, right? Obviously I was adopted.” Lyra smiled, seeming to enjoy the comparison.
“Anyway, I was pretty young. Three. So I don’t remember much about it. Afterward it was just my father, and he was always there. Even when I didn’t want him to be, so I guess he was doing his job.” She shrugged, her smile fading. “Sometimes I wished he would remarry. I would have liked it, I think, if she’d been the right kind of person. But he never got over her.”
“And you decided you didn’t much want a mate to worry over,” he guessed, and saw immediately that he’d hit the mark. She flushed lightly, then began poking at her soup, stabbing so hard he wondered if she would crack the bowl.
“It isn’t that. Exactly. I don’t know. I mean, I definitely can’t take one before we settle on a Second. And then after, well… I’ll be busy, hopefully. I won’t have time for any of that. Anyway, I can take care of myself better than anyone else could.”